Page 68 of Filthy Sweet

A thousand voices inside of me scream that it’s not that easy. I’ve made a career of not caring about shit I’m supposed to care about, but depending on how I play this with Aya, there could be disastrous consequences in my life, consequences that might hit Owen.

But then he strokes my erection through the terrycloth robe. He presses his palm to my dick and kisses me again.

“You’ve got this,” he says sweetly, caressing me. “I promise, you’ve got this, Fox.”

I grab his hip and hitch him close. “I got you,” I rasp in his ear.

Owen bites his lip, then laughs and jumps back to the bed. I grin as I crawl on to join him, and when he leans back on his elbows, I pull his robe open.

“Look at that pretty dick,” I say. “Already leaking through your briefs.”

Owen shudders. He’s wearing a plain pair of blue briefs, and his erection tents the front. “You haven’t drained me since me this morning,” he pouts, teasing me.

I growl, and we both laugh. “I’m so fucking grateful you’re here,” I tell him, stroking his face.

I’m so caught up in the moment, I could almost tell him that I love him. But admitting that opens the doors on all the other fears, so I shake my head and focus on the old standard— fucking so hot it obliterates my brain.

Owen pulls my robe off, pawing for my erection. “Then show me,” he says softly. “Show me how grateful you are.”

We tackle each other, rolling on the bed and kissing frantically. Last night was slow and beautiful, but our animals are loose today, and Owen and I tear into each other.

I flip him onto his stomach, mounting him from behind, and he playfully wiggles his ass back. “I can already taste your cock,” Owen coos.

My dick throbs, and I kick my boxers off. “I wonder how many times I can make you come in one night,” I say. I stroke Owen’s side, and he trembles under me, his face pressed to the pillow as he gasps. “Two’s easy,” I say, and he gasps again. “But you’re just so full of cum, Owen.”

He moans into the pillow. “Yeah? How are you going to get it from me?” He looks back at me. “Your cock is so thick, I don’t know how I’ll fit it in my tight hole.”

Fire blazes between us. All my muscles strain as my dick pours and pulses.

I fucking love this sweet man.

“That’s okay,” I say and drag my fingers up his crease, right over his seizing entrance. “I’ll warm you up with a nice, slow rimjob.”

Owen twitches. “Fuck yeah,” he moans, and his phone starts ringing. I rub my finger across his rim, and Owen’s moan turns into a groan as the ringing blares out.

“Fuck,” he complains, grabbing at the phone and knocking the lamp off the table in the process. He hits the phone and cuts the noise, then throws it on the floor and looks at me. “Don’t stop,” he gasps. “Give it to me.”

I grin. I love it when he’s bossy.

I lean down, then drag my tongue up his crease, right over his hole, his rich scent filling my nose and feeding my erection. “Tell me how bad you want it, Dr. Lavigne.”

Owen’s chest shakes with desire. “I fucking want it, Fox. I want your fucking tongue in my hole.”

“Yeah?” I crawl back as he pushes his ass up. Then I pull his cheeks apart and kiss his hole. “Right here?” I ask and kiss him lightly again.

“Fuck!” Owen groans. “I’m dripping.”

I reach around, wetting my hand with his precum. “Yeah you are. I’m going to shove this right in your tight hole.”

Owen spasms, and when I start rimming him properly, spreading the slick precum with my tongue, he lets out a deep groan. “Lick my hole, Fox. Get me ready for your fat cock. I need you inside me, Fox. I need you to come all over me.”

Owen gasps and buries his face in the pillow. I stretch his hole with my tongue, then pull back to suck in a deep breath.

A second passes, and I recognize a strange, staticky noise. Owen must hear it too, because he lifts his head, dazed and sweaty.

“The phone,” he whispers, eyes wide. “I must have answered it by mistake.”

Then the voice bellows out, roaring from the phone that sits on the carpet.

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